Snips and Snails and Puppydog Tails

Sorry, folks – short post today, but I think you’ll enjoy what I link you to–yes, it’s another one of my Texas Health Moms posts. I’m serious when I ask for suggestions. I’ve tried deep breathing, walking away, ignoring…at different times they’ve all worked…at other times, nothing has worked. Ahhh, the joys of parenting! It’s a good thing we love our little boogers so much, isn’t it?

Today I had hoped to post all amped up from all I’d learned at  the Women in Leadership Symposium: Rising Above the Ordinary being hosted at TCU today. I was really excited about the symposium – the topics discussed were right up my alley: Being Your Own Advocate, Personal Finance, Breaking Through Middle Management, Maximizing Mentors, and Balancing “It All.”

It was going to be a crazy morning. The Symposium started at 8:30, which meant leaving my house by probably 7:15 (horrible traffic on I-35 these days, thankyouverymuch FW). Oh, but guess what? Today is THURSDAY. Thursday means that we’re already crazy in the morning because Bryan takes the big boys to school, and Caleb has to be at school by 7:45. That means Bryan and the boys leaving home no later than (you guessed it) 7:15. Typically, Thursday mornings are a sort of “divide and conquor” situation where Bryan handles the big boys and I get Sam and myself ready. BUT, I have a wonderful husband who was willing to make his morning even crazier by getting everyone to their respective schools so that I could get to the symposium on time. Continue Reading »

I’m sure my post today will be one of many like it, and it might be a little disjointed. But it’s a post that must be written, right?

10 years ago today was tragic. 10 years ago today was terrifying. 10 years ago today was mind-blowing in the worst way. 10 years ago today, my generation was suddenly able to understand the shock, confusion, and feelings of our parents and grandparents who lived through JFK’s assassination and Pearl Harbor.

10 years ago today, I was on my way into work when I heard the news of a plane – at the time they thought it was a small, private plane – hitting the first tower. I remember thinking, “well, that’s gonna be a helluva lawsuit.” If only. By the time I got to my desk, the world was changed. In the 5 minutes it took me to park my car, cross the street, and take an elevator up to the 13th floor, the second plane hit and we knew this was no accident. Radios were on all over the department. A few people had small tvs at their desks. From my desk, I heard the news of the planes hitting the Pentagon and going down in Pennsylvania. The office closed (we later learned that our company lost about 25 people in the towers and planes); I was home in time to watch the towers fall. I worried about friends who lived in NYC at the time; I worried about friends in the military. I struggled to wrap my brain around what had happened, how it could happen, how humans could do this to other humans. I still struggle with that. I suppose we all do.

And now, as a Mommy, my heart breaks in new ways for the families who lost someone that day. The parents who lost dear children, the children who lost beloved parents, the children who will never know parents. As a Mommy, I wonder how I’ll answer the questions my boys will inevitably ask. As a Mommy, I hope they never have an event like this to contend with, though I know that it’s unlikely I’ll get that wish.

There have been so many comments leading up to today about always remembering. I assure you, it won’t be forgotten. Too many people relive it every day with the empty place at the table. However, I’m thankful that the overarching feeling of today (and each anniversary, really) is “remember and honor” and “remember and hope,” not “remember and avenge.” I’m grateful that this terrible event didn’t “break” America, as its perpetrators had hoped.

And I’ll be honest here, I’m grateful that Osama bin Laden was caught and killed. I understand that his death doesn’t mean the end of terrorism, but it does mean one less mastermind to worry about.

But you know what else? I’m so grateful that we kept moving ahead. I’m so grateful that even on a day as somber as today, I can go watch my 11-year-old play baseball, and play with my 7-year-old and 16-month-old in the (finally) mild September sunshine. So off I go to the ballpark in my American flag shirt, to remember, honor, hope, and yes, even enjoy. I hope you’re able to do the same.

Because it’s impossibly hot, and they’re all impossibly precious.

Happy Birthday, Baby. I Love You.

I’ll try not to get too mushy here, but I can’t promise I won’t.

Happy Birthday to the man I love most in this world.

Happy Birthday to the father of the other loves of my life, our three wonderful boys.

Happy Birthday to the man from whom I’ve learned so much about love, life, family, and laughter.

Simply put, Happy Birthday, Bryan, my life, my love.

Every day it seems that Sam shows us something new that he’s learned. He’s getting to be a Big Boy so fast–faster than I am ready for.

Examples of Sam’s Big Boy status–

• He willingly gives up the paci when it’s not naptime, bedtime, or other cranky times. He even uses Paci as a bargaining chip, particularly when he wants a snack.
• Drop-offs at school are typically pretty easy. Usually Sam walks into his room and starts playing or goes to sit down for circle time (if we’re late, which we often are). Most of the time he doesn’t even bother to wave bye-bye to Mommy.
• He’s talking so much more. He picks up new words and phrases every day – sometimes ones we wish he wouldn’t…
• He often refers to his reflection (in the tub overflow drain, in the mirror, in the dishwasher) as “Big Boy” instead of “Baby” (and yes, you can tell the difference).
• He knows what Time Out is, where it is, and has even put himself there once!
• When he’s ready for bed, he tells us…and has even “shooed” me out of the room when I’ve lingered too long after saying night-night.
• He climbs the stairs.

You know the saying “be careful what you wish for,” right? Well, y’all, remind me never again to wish for or tell him to “be a big boy.” I never really mean it, and it’s the one thing he seems to listen to!

The game room upstairs is the Land of All Things Lego, the big boys’ domain. Until recently. We’ve been doing some household clean out, and that included the upstairs game room. (Never fear, the Legos are still around, just put away differently.) I’ve mentioned that we’re sort of a sports family, right? Well, no sports family upstairs game room is complete without a basketball goal, right? Clearly. Sam (thankfully) seems to have inherited his father’s athleticism thus far, and is ENAMOURED of anything that involves sports, especially basketball. No, really, this child would throw a fit at big brothers’ basketball games (at 8-9 months old!) when the ball was taken away from him at warmups or halftime. Imagine his glee when he was finally allowed into the game room and realized he has his very own goal right upstairs! It even has a place for not one, but TWO balls to sit safely at the base of the goal! SCORE!

Sam has also started going up and down the stairs, with help from Mommy and Daddy, of course. He thinks it’s the greatest thing ever to crawl up the stairs for bedtime or, of course, basketball time. Can you guess where I’m going with this? Can you? Continue Reading »

TIME OUT! The two words a toddler most hates to hear. (Okay, okay, the two words a toddler second-most hates to hear – “No!” is probably the word a tot most hates to hear.) Sam knows these words. He’s known Time Out since early July, and experienced Time Out more often than he’d like since then, even in public places.

Earlier this week, after telling SAM “no” for probably the zillionth time in an hour, he got that look. You know that look – the look that says, “I don’t like you right now, and I’m going to show you just HOW much I don’t like you right now”– that look that almost inevitably leads to Time Out.

—Begin scene—

Sam: [raises little hand, ready to smack the “no” right out of Mommy]

Mommy: [gives best MeanMommy look] Do you really want to do that?

Daddy: Sam, do you need a Time Out?

Sam: [face falling, hand dropping to side, walks over to the Time Out corner and stands forlornly]

Mommy & Daddy: [stunned, then giggling] Sam, come back, baby. That’s a good boy, but you don’t have to be in Time Out right now.

S: [runs back to Mommy & Daddy, smiling]

—-End scene—

More proof that he’s an incredibly gifted child. Or that Super Nanny was right and Time Out works. Or that we just got lucky that day.

Oh my, so many ideas for posts are swimming in my head right now. But since it’s late, I’m going to pick a quick one and go with it. I have yet another new adventure beginning. You might have noticed on my “Faves” list a site called InterfaithFamily.com (IFF). It’s been a fabulous resource for me (and for Bryan, I think) as we go through our lives in our often-crazy, always loving, Interfaith journey. In fact, we chronicled our wedding journey on the site’s Weddings Blog. Well, guess what? IFF has started up a Parenting blog, focused on, what else? raising children in an Interfaith family. And guess who is going to be one of several contributors to this blog? Yep, you got it! Yours Truly! I’m very excited about it, so maybe head on over and check it out (and please, be nice; remember, I’m an amateur)! 🙂

Sam has lately been trying to figure out how to jump. It’s really cute and he thinks it’s the funniest. Game. EVER. On Monday, his big brothers were trying to teach him how, and I actually got it on film. But, um. . . what do you think he says when he falls down?

(I assure you he didn’t learn that from Mommy. Mommy never has a potty-mouth or lets any kind of expletives fly when mad or frustrated.)